Blessing Festival (3) Embrace each other.

The next day commenced with a session of morning prayers, where the women gathered in the temple hall to offer gratitude for the blessings bestowed upon them.

Following that prayer session the ritual of Offering of Blessing Rice unfolded with meticulous grace, a tradition dating back centuries. Women representing different generations and statuses within the imperial court took turns offering handfuls of fragrant rice to a sacred altar. The grains, symbolizing abundance and sustenance, were presented with prayers for the prosperity of the empire and the well-being of its people.

After the ceremony was finished, the Empress Dowager, with an air of authority, stood in front of everyone, commanding the attention of the assembled women. Her regal presence magnifies the serene ambience of the prayer hall. 

"Once again, my dear daughters, we have gathered to honour not only other women but ourselves. Every day, we engage in a silent battle for what is rightfully ours, for the dreams we hold close to, and for the future we envision. In pursuing our aspirations, we fight with such relentless determination that, at times, we become consumed by our struggles.

Take this time to rest your tired hearts. Seek solace amongst each other because no man will ever truly understand the depth of our experiences, nor will they wish to. Only another woman will know how you feel.

Acknowledging others' struggles is not a sign of weakness but a testament to our interconnectedness. Our pain, our joys, our efforts – they are the brushstrokes that paint the masterpiece of our existence.

We stand united, bound by the unspoken threads of womanhood. It becomes our duty to understand each other. To acknowledge and celebrate the strength that resides within each one of us. To lend an empathetic ear, offer a comforting hand, and be the steadfast support that every sister deserves. 

We must become each other's champions, recognizing the victories, both big and small, that make us the incredible beings we are.

Today, we acknowledge each other as capable individuals fighting for their desires. We celebrate our strength as women!"

As Empress Dowager concluded her words of encouragement, a wave of conversations filled the dining hall, creating a cheerful atmosphere. Her efforts temporarily lifted the usual guards and barriers. The women appear to enjoy each other's company, showcasing a side of themselves that is not often visible in the rigid and formal settings of palace life.

"Ladies, the time has come to choose your activities!" The Empress Dowager's voice echoed through the hall as she made her way to the table holding folded papers. "Let's see what fate has in store for me today."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she pulled a paper, scanning its contents with a playful smile. "Ah, an interesting choice!" She shared a look with the nearby ladies before heading to her chosen spot. 

Following her lead, everyone busied themselves. However, Han Aeng's attention remained fixated on the Empress Dowager's retreating figure.

It was rare to witness someone who handled palace affairs with such finesse, seamlessly blending political acumen, maneuverings, and hidden motives with genuine care for the well-being of her family.

In that sense, Empress Dowager was a kind-hearted woman who deeply cared for those around her. Which arguably went against her first impression of being rough and stern. The ever-turned frown, which had initially appeared as a sign of strict authority, now revealed an undertone of gentleness. It carried a tenderness that spoke of her nurturing role within the imperial family, a side not often visible to outsiders.

If only she were there to teach the women of Jeontu's palace these things. How much easier would my life have been?

A soft sigh escaped her lips, unnoticed in the lively atmosphere. It seemed she was becoming more foolish after coming to Shangwei. 

Attaching oneself to principles without considering reality proves to be futile. The sentiments shared within these temple walls would fade with the setting sun. Tomorrow, they would revert to mere pawns in the intricate game of families, politics, and rivalries.

Han Aeng shook her head dismissively. 

She walks over to a table, intending to pick an activity for herself. However, before she could choose, Noble Consort Rong cut in.

"Let's see. Yes, this one," Noble Consort Rong declared, tossing aside two pieces of paper without a glance. She clasped Han Aeng's hand wordlessly, leading her outside with anticipation.

"I always start with paint first. It's the best part!" Noble Consort Rong's excitement bubbled in a whisper as they strolled through the garden.

The painting area nestled in the garden's corner, beckoning with its tranquil charm. Silk scrolls and bamboo paper adorned the tables under towering trees, alongside palettes bursting with vibrant colors. It was an inviting space, ripe with creative energy.

"Let's get started!" Noble Consort Rong's eyes lit up with excitement as she gestured towards the paintbrushes and colourful palettes, a warm smile playing on her lips. "Isn't it so pretty?"

"Mm, so peaceful. Chenqie could sleep just about now," Han Aeng replied with a contented sigh. She picked up a paintbrush, twirling it between her fingers, mindlessly contemplating what to paint.

"Guifei Rong appears to have grown preoccupied now that she has someone to share her affections," a voice commented dryly. The pair turned to face Shufei Yi Xuxin, her countenance stoic and unreadable. 

(A/N: Shufei means virtuous/graceful consort. Guifei means Nobel Consort. Shufei is a rank below Guifei)

Noble Consort Rong gestured to the seat beside them, inviting her to join. "Aiya, Shufei Yi got to experience the joy twice. Poor old me only gets this once, so let me be." 

Shufei Yi settled down, engaging in polite conversation. As they chatted, Shufei Yi expression turned contemplative, scanning Han Aeng with a cool gaze, lacking any warmth or familiarity. "To think that young boy is married."

"To such a cute lady at that!" Noble Consort Rong chimed in without missing a beat. 

A faint blush covered Han Aeng's cheeks. While she was someone who could sing her own praises, hearing it from others made her unexpectedly bashful at times.

Skilfully averting her mother-in-law's doting gaze, she caught Shufei Yi studying her with a cold, calculating gaze.

Throughout her time here, Han Aeng had grown accustomed to the seasoned curiosity, so she let them look to their hearts' content without feeling shy. Instead, she reciprocated the unspoken exchange of undivided attention.

Shufei Yi Xuxin, the eldest daughter of Chancellor Yi, possessed an air of sophistication and intelligence. Almond-shaped eyes, framed by gracefully arched eyebrows, exuded a keen and discerning gaze, hinting at the clever and perceptive nature that lay beneath. As her gaze lingered, the lines of thought etched upon her forehead became more pronounced, revealing the depth of her contemplation. Each movement was measured, and every expression was carefully curated, creating an aura of grace that befitted her position as Shufei. 

"Guess it won't be long before Bolin gets married too," Shufei Yi mused, her tone measured and detached. With a composed demeanour, she picked up a paintbrush, each stroke made with precision reflecting her upbringing. "After that, all the children would have been married."

"By then, the palace will become an empty nest again." A gentleness filled Noble Consort Rong's countenance, and the subtle crinkle of her nose betrayed a bittersweet undercurrent in her emotions of the inevitable changes. It was as if the thought brought conflicting feelings – joy for her son's future and a hint of reluctance to let go. 

The departure of both princes and princesses from the palace after marriage marked a profound and irreversible shift in the dynamics of the royal families. According to the ceremony, princes rarely returned to their childhood's familiar halls and courtyards once married. Similarly, princesses often married into distant provinces, joining their husbands' families, making their return to the palace seldom. 

As the children ventured into their new lives outside the palace walls, the mothers remained within, their hearts yearning and grappling with the bittersweet reality of losing their children to new responsibilities and obligations.

The daily interactions, the companionship, and the comforting familiarity of routines shared with their children would be replaced by an eerie stillness settling over the palace. The echo of empty corridors would replace the laughter that once resonated through the grand chambers, each step a poignant reminder of the void left behind.

Noble Consort Rong's gaze turned wistful as it wandered over the other women gathered to paint—a diverse assembly of the younger and older generations. She vividly recalled not long ago when she herself was part of the younger generation, her days filled with laughter, dreams, and the promise of an unknown future. Youthful laughter resonated in her ears, and the scent of budding ambitions lingered in the air.

"But at least we'll get to dote on each other." Noble Consort Rong nudged Shufei Yi, her mouth twitching, trying to hold back laughter. 

Shufei Yi didn't respond, but a subtle glimmer in her eyes, a fleeting hint of amusement in her demeanour, acknowledged the jest they shared. 

Amidst their harmonious conversation, Han Aeng stole subtle glances at Noble Consort Rong and Shufei Yi. Inspired by the tranquil atmosphere of the garden and the subtle nuances of human connection, she reached for her paintbrush. 

With deliberate strokes, Han Aeng began to paint, each movement guided by intuition. Her gaze occasionally loitered on their composed demeanours.

She had hoped to gain insights into the relationships, dynamics, and alliances that defined life within the inner palace, but diplomacy masking desires and emotions was a recurring theme Han Aeng noted throughout the festival.

Her observations from the previous night's prayers only highlighted how the peaceful coexistence among the princess consorts, for obvious reasons, contrasts with the muted tension brewing within the women from the Emperor's harem.

What intrigued Han Aeng the most was the apparent ease with which the Empress, Shufei Yi, and Shufei Lai seemed to interact with Noble Consort Rong. Despite any underlying mistrust, they exhibited a level of comfort in her presence that was absent in their interactions with each other. 

The temperament of her mother-in-law and the esteemed lineage of the Rong family likely contributed to her acceptance within the inner court. 

The Rong family is a prominent and respected lineage that has maintained a long-standing stance of neutrality in all court-related matters. Their initial renown came from a victory in a war two decades ago. However, it was the family's decision to actively participate in borderland affairs that bolstered their standing within the imperial court.

The neutrality of the Rong family meant that despite Noble Consort Rong's privileged status as the emperor's favoured consort, she lacked the political power and influence traditionally associated with such a position. This brings a sense of reassurance to the women of the harem.

Having thought thus far, and a bamboo forest taking shape on the paper, Han Aeng found herself in a good mood. 

She had married well. 

"Well, aren't you all smiles?" Noble Consort Rong teased as she dipped her paintbrush into a vibrant red paint made from crushed flowers. With deliberate strokes, she finally drew her first line, the vivid hue blooming across the paper.

Han Aeng responded with a radiant smile; setting down her paintbrush, she said, "Chenqie is rather fortunate to have you as my mother-in-law. It makes chenqie happy." She didn't mind indulging her mother-in-law in her delight.

"Ousoqt!" Noble Consort Rong exclaimed incoherently, cupping Han Aeng's face and squishing her cheeks together. "You're so cute I could eat you!"

The affectionate gesture drew a collective laughter from the women gathered around the painting area. 

"Don't engage in such frivolous behaviour. Your son wouldn't appreciate seeing his wife return with marks of immaturity on her face."

"Right, we can't have that now, can we? A'hai will tell me off." Reluctantly, Noble Consort Rong let go, and Han Aeng kneaded her slightly swollen cheeks, smiling in response to her mother-in-law's pouted face.

"He's the one who started it, but now he tells me off for it?!" Noble Consort Rong huffed. By this time, most of the ladies had made significant progress, with half of their paintings taking shape. A nonchalant expression crossed her face as she glanced at her untouched painting, realizing she hadn't made any progress. "Unbelievable."

"His Highness?" 

"As a child, he thought it was the best way to show affection," she explained. The gentleness in her tone painted a vivid picture of the liveliness that children often bring. "Whenever he was overcome with love, he couldn't resist giving that person a little nibble on their cheek, just like this." She mimicked the action by gently nibbling on her finger.

"Just imagine him. A little prince, running around the palace, trying to eat everyone in sight." By now, Noble Consort Rong struggled to articulate herself, laughing heartily at the memory.

"There were times when he even attempted the same with the palace guard, who he was fond of. The poor man was so scared he kowtowed and begged for forgiveness, swearing he'd never appear in front of A'hai again!"

Han Aeng couldn't picture her husband as a child, but the thought of him enjoying such affectionate gestures was definitely cute. "His Highness sounds like quite the handful." 

"Oh yes, they were all so amusing as kids," Noble Consort Rong wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, her laughter echoing through the air with fond memories.

Shufei Yi remained silent for a moment before offering a subtle nod of agreement. "Children can be quite unpredictable," she commented, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

I guess this is what they meant by embracing each other's difficulties.